


New York Stories

by frantic65



Series: New York Stories [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:43:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frantic65/pseuds/frantic65
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is part 1 of a series set several years post-513 looking at Brian & Justin's life together in NYC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New York Stories

1.

Brian entered the silent apartment, placed his briefcase in the foyer, and hung his cashmere coat in the hallway closet.

His footsteps echoed on the gleaming wood floor as he entered the living room, coming to a halt when a familiar figure stepped out of the shadows near the French doors that framed the balcony.

“Well?” Justin asked, face tense and pale in the dim moonlight.

Brian moved closer, fingers outstretched to gently cup his partner’s cheek.

“All clear.” He whispered, pulling Justin into a solid hug. “Cancer free.”

“Five years.” Justin murmured, face buried in Brian’s neck. “Let’s fucking celebrate."

 

2.

When all was said and done, the decision to have Brian permanently relocate to NYC was both mutual and spur-of-the-moment.

Two close calls, within six months, on routine flights from PIT to JFK, were the catalysts that prompted the rapid deceleration to their commuter relationship.

‘Assume the position’ was a phrase that both Brian and Justin agreed was hot when used in the back room or bedroom; not for terrified passengers experiencing an emergency landing.

So when Justin vehemently declared he was moving back to the Pitts because life was too fucking short to tempt fate, Kinnetik NY was born.

 

3.

One morning in late October, Brian stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed from chronic lack of sleep, to find a Sullivan County Real Estate Guide lying neatly next to his morning coffee.

He shot a questioning glance at Justin who simply shrugged, heading off to his studio, where Brian found him after the caffeine had elevated his work-fatigued brain cells to minimum functioning level.

“The fucking Catskills?” Brian gestured to an unfinished canvas of a quiet country road, trees blazing in full Autumn glory.

 “It’s the perfect weekend retreat for artists and ad-men alike.” Justin noted soberly. “And it’s doctor recommended.”

 

4.

Brian’s moods were legendary, but as time passed, Justin learned to hold his own where Brian’s demons were concerned, finding a precarious balance that never let the darkness consume them.

At the first sign of the restless frustration signaling the start of one of Brian’s downward spirals, Justin would leave Brian’s hottest club clothes lying neatly on the bed with a post-it that simply read, ‘Hey Stud. Wanna dance?’

If Justin’s instincts were right, Brian would find him at their favorite club, welcoming the distractions of booze, drugs, and anonymous sex via the temporary revival of their familiar game; pick-a-trick.

 

5.

“Remember the last time?” Justin whispered as he checked the knots on the silk ties restraining Brian to the bed one more time.

“I used your favorite dildo to open your tight ass until you were begging me to fill you with my cock.” Justin licked a wet trail from Brian’s neck to his stomach, letting a puff of hot air teasingly caress Brian’s hard cock.

“That was so fucking hot.” Brian agreed hoarsely, straining his neck to watch Justin’s mouth close in on his leaking dick.

Brian’s view of the Manhattan skyline tilted dizzily as Justin reached his target.

 

6.

Brian was enjoying a much needed double shot of Beam after another fabulous day in the trenches of the New York City advertising world, bare feet soundlessly crossing the ebony hardwood bedroom floor heading toward the living room as he heard the front door open.

“Is it true?” Justin was standing in the middle of the living room, fingers nervously rubbing the keys he still held tightly in his hand.

Brian raised an eyebrow in answer, although he was fairly sure he knew which truth Justin was referring to.

He drained his glass, casually refilling it from the mini-bar. “Fucking Mikey.”

 

7.

“So, it is true then?” Justin walked up to him and grabbed his glass, tossing the whiskey back like a pro. “You’re going to fucking sell Babylon. Just like that?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders, turning his back to Justin as he walked to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the room. “The time has come, Justin.” 

“But you love that club.” Justin insisted, sliding in behind Brian.

“I’ve loved things from a distance before, and I’ve found it to be less than enjoyable.”  Brian lit up a cigarette, inhaling deeply. “Besides, it’s becoming a drain on my resources.”

 

8.

“What!?” Justin was gearing up and would soon explode into a glorious full-blown prima-donna worthy queen out. “That’s totally fucked, Brian, and you’re an asshole for not accepting my help when I offered it last year.”

Brian studied his irate and tightly wound partner as he stalked angrily across their Italian marble patio, hands gesturing wildly, hair mussed as he occasionally stopped mid-stride to run agitated fingers through it.

“You know, you are really fucking hot when you’re pissed, Sunshine.” Brian reached out and lightly stroked Justin’s naked bicep.

“Don’t Sunshine me, you son-of-a-bitch! This is righteous indignation right here!”

 

9.

“Justin, it’s a fucking building in a city we no longer live in.” Brian hooked his arm around the back of Justin’s neck, pulling him in close against his chest. “Our friends in the Pitts have outgrown that scene, and we barely get back there more than twice a year.”

Justin sighed in resignation. “But it’s got so many memories for us, just like the loft.”

“Not all of those memories are particularly good ones.” Brian added ice to his glass, splashing Beam on top and offering it to Justin. “And I have no intention of ever selling the loft.”

 

10.

Brian’s ass was dragging as he stepped onto the airport concourse after a routine two day business trip to LA had turned into two weeks of endless initial client meetings.

He perked up considerably when he intercepted the hot gaze of a potential trick near the baggage carousel, and he nodded toward the restroom, satisfied when the twink eagerly headed in that direction.

After all, he was fucking jetlagged, not dead.

He entered the restroom, pushing the man into a stall and fucking him quickly.

Justin twisted in his grasp, pressing a possessive kiss onto his lips. “Welcome home, Brian.”

 

11.

“Bullshit!” Brian was in danger of crossing over from pissed off into the realm of livid. “I don’t need a fucking quiet week in the country to de-stress. A debauched week with my dick in your ass will do just fine.”

“Brian, you’re hypertensive and need a total break from Kinnetik.” Justin knew enough to let his partner vent and fume in his usual dramatic fashion, biding his time until Brian was ready to give him a brief chance to plead his case.

“I doubt you could do it anyway.” Justin finally smiled. “After all, you’re a slave to technology.”

 

 12.

“More like I’m a slave to the evil schemes of a clever little twat.” Brian continued to frown and pace, but the worst of his temper had passed, and he followed Justin out to the patio, plopping down into a lounge chair.

“Come on.” Justin coaxed, straddling Brian’s lap, and sifting his fingers gently through Brian’s hair. “You’ve been avoiding the lake house since we bought it.”

“Just the fact that you’ve named it ‘The Lake House’ is enough to make me want to burn it to the ground.” Brian complained. “I’m too fucking young to star in ‘On Golden Pond’.”

 

13.

“Justin, I’m not letting you buy bath towels from Bed, Bath and Beyond.” Brian had agreed to the week in the country, deciding to bitch about all the preparations involved with setting up a second residence instead. “You need to order those imported Turkish towels from Hammacher’s. Those other shitty ones give you a rash, and feel like fucking sandpaper.”

Justin rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to smack his partner on the ass with one of his precious Turkish towels. He chose the more enjoyable option, however, which involved Brian’s cock slowly sliding in-and-out of Justin’s talented mouth.

 

14.

“Thank you.” Justin spoke quietly from his position resting comfortably against Brian, who was pushing off with his feet so they gently swayed back-and-forth on the cushioned swing on their front porch overlooking the late November glory of Lake Louise Marie.

Brian simply ruffled his hair in response, refilling their wine glasses from the pitcher of sangria sitting nearby. He was reluctant to admit it aloud, but in the past few days since they’d arrived, he’d noticed a definite drop in his tension levels.

Fuck if he’d admit it to the little shit beside him; he was smug enough already.

 

15.

Brian stood gazing at the Pittsburgh skyline from their suite at the Sheraton Station Square, idly listening to Justin chatting on the phone with his mom, arranging a holiday shopping spree at the mall.

Brian shuddered involuntarily at the thought of actually considering such an outing a desirable way to spend a day.

He was nostalgic for the good old days, when Justin got excited at the thought of a trip to the Baths, not Bath and Body Works, which, Brian mused silently, would have been a terrific name for a chain of cruising venues.

“Hey. Penny for your thoughts.”

 

16.

Brian smirked, turning into Justin’s embrace, pressing their lips together, and pushing Justin back toward the king size bed.

“I miss the fucking loft.” Brian grumbled as they fell to the mattress together, interior design books bouncing alongside them as they settled into a familiar position with Brian’s body lining up with Justin’s perfectly.

“Mmmhmm.” Justin murmured, covering Brian’s face in kisses. “But think of how fucking awesome it’s going to look after the renovations.”

“Right.” Brian rolled them so Justin was on top. “I can’t wait to use the secret dungeon room I had custom built for annoying brats.”

 

17.

Justin wandered the city streets for hours, lost in the memories that surrounded him; in sights and sounds comfortably familiar, yet somehow disturbingly foreign. 

It was Liberty Avenue, the place he had instinctively come to so many years ago, a frightened but determined boy, searching for a lifestyle he craved, but hadn’t quite understood.

Not until he met Brian; discovering in just one night, exactly what he wanted from life.

 Sometimes it was hard to believe the twisted road he’d travelled to get to this point. But he finally agreed with Brian; it was time to say good-bye to Babylon.

 

18.

The next morning Brian poked at the Justin-shaped lump hidden under the duvet, persevering until a blond head finally popped out from undercover staring at him in bleary-eyed annoyance.

“Get your ass out of bed, Sunshine.” Brian whispered with sarcastic sweetness. “Our flight back home leaves in two hours, and the weather is supposed to turn to shit later. If I get stuck here in the armpit of the East Coast, I will tie your balls in a knot.”

Justin grumbled, but was ready in record time. Anyplace that Brian called their home was where he wanted to be.

 

19.

Brian continued to bitch and moan the entire trip back to New York, leaving Justin with a vile headache, and a strong desire to utilize the sparkly blue ball gag Brian had bought him last Valentine’s Day if Brian didn’t zip his lip on their ride home in an old cum and reefer scented taxi.

“Bite me, Brian!” he finally snapped. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Brian shut up mid-rant, refusing to meet Justin’s steely-eyed gaze head-on, dropping his head and pinching his nose in frustration.

“It’s my bitch of a mother.” Brian admitted. “She wants to meet Gus.”

 

20.

“How the fuck does she even know about Gus?” Justin demanded, headache forgotten at the thought of Joan Kinney re-entering their lives in any capacity. No wonder Brian had been freaking out.

“Cunty Clare told her.” Brian shrugged.

“You’re not seriously considering it, are you?” Justin hovered uncertainly next to Brian, the idea of Joan’s toxic religious views being spewed at Gus making him nauseous.

“Give me some credit for being able to avoid a land mine like that.” Brian flopped down onto the sofa, pulling Justin down into his lap. “I never want any of her shit to touch Gus.”

 

21.

”You’re just like your father.”Joan had hissed into the phone. ”Always thinking you could hide things from me. He with his shameless hussies, and you with your disgusting and sinful lifestyle.”

"Mom, I’m hanging up now." Brian had only spoken to her because the temp didn’t know Joan was a fucking whackjob, and had transferred the call.

“I won’t let you keep the Lord’s truth from my grandson, Brian."She spoke quickly, knowing her time was limited.

“Stay the fuck away from my son.”Brian did have one thing in common with his old man; a real hatred of Joan.

 

22.

Justin had welcomed the roughfucking Brian had given him that night, knowing that a few lovebites and a sore ass was a small price to pay for exorcising the Joan Kinney demon from Brian’s mind.

He called Lindsay the next morning, knowing that Brian had filled her in on Joan’s discovery. Justin explained his idea to ease Brian’s mind and she readily agreed. Winter Break was right around the corner, and just like a boy needed a father, sometimes a father needed to spend time with his son.

That evening, Brian found a red-ribboned envelope next to his dinner plate.

 

23.

Justin leaned against the table with one hip, scratching the back of his neck nervously as Brian picked up the envelope and shot him a curious glance.

“It’s a little early for Santa and his elves to have paid us a visit, isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk.

“Just open it.” Justin urged him with a slight laugh. “You know you’re dying to see what it is.”

“Mmmhmm.” Brian finally opened it, keeping his now suspicious gaze on Justin the entire time.

Justin anxiously watched as Brian looked inside and pulled the papers out.

“Well, what do you think?”

 

24.

Brian bit his lip lightly as he scanned the envelope’s contents, raising his eyes to meet Justin’s, the heat from his gaze causing Justin to shiver in anticipation.

“This is fucking awesome, Justin.” Brian crowded him against the refrigerator, pressing their bodies together, his hands tangled in the soft blond strands of Justin’s hair as he leaned forward to join their lips.

Within minutes, Justin’s legs were wrapped around Brian’s waist, as they fucked noisily against their high-end stainless steel appliances.

The copy of the e-ticket that booked Gus’s flight from Toronto to New York fluttered forgotten to the floor.

 

25.

The snow had finally stopped falling, leaving several feet of fluffy whiteness blanketing the shorelines of Lake Louise Marie.

Justin stepped out onto the porch of the lake house, mug of hot chocolate clutched in his slowly thawing fingers, enjoying the way the sun reflected brightly on the lake’s frozen surface.

He heard the sounds of giggling and shouting coming steadily closer as Brian and Gus finally ended their snowball fight and headed toward the warmth of the house.

They had gone skiing at the nearby chalet earlier, Justin opting to stay behind to keep the home fires steadily burning.

 

26.

Justin smiled at the sight of the two Kinney men tumbling and wrestling together in the snow, knowing that the unexpected surprise of Gus being able to spend an entire month with them had done Brian’s dangerous stress levels more good than any pill or treatment recommended by a doctor could have accomplished.

“Hey you two!” he shouted across the snow-covered yard, “Do you want something hot?”

Gus nodded eagerly and started trudging through the snow, while Brian flashed him an evil grin and teased, “Besides you, Sunshine?”

Justin laughed, sending him a flirty look from under his eyelashes. “Later.”

 

27.

Brian sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, leafing through an industry journal, idly listening as Gus tried to teach Justin the rules behind the Dreidel game.

He’d resisted spending time at the lake house when they’d first bought it, his inbred tendency to avoid any hint of breeder-like domestic tranquility stronger than his desire to quiet Justin’s pleas that he just take things slower after suffering a few stress-related health scares.

But now he had finally seen how much Gus loved being here with him and Justin; his dick apparently in no danger of turning into a twat.

 

28.

They were quiet on the taxi ride back to the apartment. Gus’s plane had left taking him back to Toronto less than an hour ago, and neither one of them felt much like talking.

“How about we head over to **Solstice** tonight?” Justin suggested, naming their favorite gay club in the city.

Even though he knew Brian loved spending time with Gus, a month was a long time for him to go without the familiar sights and sounds of sweaty, sexy men grinding up against each other.

Justin knew a hot blowjob in the backroom would do them both good.

 

29.

Justin threw his hands up in the air, ass sliding back-and-forth against Brian’s hard cock, as they did a nasty bump-and-grind on the dance floor at **Solstice.**

Brian had slipped him an E on his tongue a little while ago, and the drug was working it’s familiar magic, dropping Justin’s inhibitions, and making him horny and hungry for Brian’s dick.

He pulled at Brian’s arm, urging him impatiently to head in the direction of the back room, only pausing when Brian insisted he drink a bottle of water.

“Fuck the water.” Justin had pouted.

“Be good, Sunshine. Hydration is important."

 

30.

Justin pushed Brian roughly against wall in the back room at Solstice, lips hungrily tasting lips as his fingers eagerly opened Brian’s shirt, slipping it smoothly off his leanly muscled shoulders.

Brian cupped the back of Justin’s neck as his mouth blazing a heated trail toward Brian’s still covered cock.

“I need you to fuck me.” Justin moaned, the scent of Brian’s arousal combined with the E, making him oh so fucking horny.

“Whatever you want, Sunshine.” Brian agreed huskily, loving how fucking hot Justin was for his dick.

It took only a heartbeat to sink into the familiar heat.

 

31.

It was Christmas Eve and Brian was delivering the first of many presents to Justin; in this case Justin’s ass.

They were spending the holidays at the lake house, the various other branches of family having decided to abscond to the Great White North to visit the lesbian’s love nest.

Brian had offered to go too, knowing Justin lived for the fa-la-fucking lameness of mistletoe and ivy, but Justin only smiled flirtingly, declaring he’d ordered some fabulous Martha Stewart decorations with which to deck their halls.

Brian welcomed the solitude, especially when Justin opened his new Jingle Balls vibrating dildo.

 

 32.

Christmas Day dawned bright and blinding white; the reflection of the sun on the snowy shores of the lake causing Brian to break out his shades when he indulgently took Justin on a lesbianic ‘snow-walk’ to channel some of the calming effects of nature’s beauty into his stress-riddled soul.

Brian knew from experience that once Justin had decided on a course of action it was fucking fruitless to try to change his mind; and Justin’s method of a mutual thawing before the roaring fireplace afterward proved to be a fitting reward for his co-operation.

Christmas wasn’t total bullshit after all.

 

33.

As midnight approached, Justin raised his head from Brian’s chest, pressing his lips against his neck.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” He whispered as they watched the flames dance lazily within the fireplace.

“Of course not.” Brian scoffed, pulling the cashmere throw across their naked bodies. “You’re always a fabulous fuck, and I’m always fucking fabulous.”

Justin sighed in frustration, knowing Brian’s glib tongue hid a much deeper emotion that he rarely allowed to see the light of day.

“But,” Brian continued, absently stroking Justin’s hair. “It was pretty fucking perfect, as holidays go.”

In Kinneyspeak that was love.

 

34.

Justin woke up alone the next morning, Brian’s side of the bed cold and empty; not a totally unexpected turn of events when dealing with the aftermath of a Brian Kinney non-traditional declaration of love.

He wasn’t really worried that Brian had abandoned him. The days that Brian would do something hurtful as a way to prove he didn’t fucking need anyone were long gone.

That; and the smell of coffee and cigarettes seducing him from the direction of the kitchen settled that concern.

Justin found him sitting on the deck watching the sunrise over the lake.

“Talk to me.”

 

35.

Brian glanced at Justin, who was wrapped in a hideous patchwork country quilt that Brian immediately wanted to burn in the fireplace on principal alone, but smiled wryly as he saw Justin smirk, instead opening his arms and letting him settle on his lap.

“It’s a fucking hand-made quilt that my Mom had commissioned for us.” Justin whispered, pressing a kiss against Brian’s temple. “Do not even think thoughts about harming it in any way.”

Brian shakes his head in silent acknowledgment of defeat, allowing Justin to wrap them inside its warmth because it’s fucking cold in the fucking wilderness.

 

36.

“Fuck.” Brian finally speaks, shifting Justin so he’s talking to the back of Justin’s head. “Once upon a time all of this,” his gesture encompasses the entire environment around them. “…domestic bullshit would have fucked with my mind, sending me on the biggest quest for cock the queer world has ever seen.”

Justin turns so he’s facing Brian, warm hands smoothing their way under Brian’s shirt until he finds bare skin, and the resulting connection he always feels when touching Brian’s naked flesh.

“But now?” Justin prompts, outwardly calm, yet always waiting for the other shoe to drop with Brian.

 

37.

“Now, I realize none of that shit proves anything.” Brian pauses to indulge in Justin’s lips, proving rather convincingly that anonymous dick didn’t stand a chance when compared to Justin.

“I won’t promise monogamy.” Brian continues after a few minutes, watching Justin’s face carefully. “And I know you haven’t asked for that.”

“And I never will.” Justin answers quietly, without a trace of regret or doubt. “You know my boundaries, and the days of finding a stranger in our bed are long gone.”

Brian pulls Justin closer in answer, knowing it shouldn’t matter, and realizing that surprisingly enough, it doesn’t.

 

38.

The sweat glistens on their skin, the strobe lights turning the crush of dancing bodies in Club Solstice into a rainbow of colors better suited to one of Justin’s canvasses.

Justin arches his back gracefully as Brian nips and nuzzles his way down his throat, their grinding hips matching the music’s rhythm.

“You know there’s just enough time for one last fuck before midnight.” Brian whispers, licking Justin’s ear hotly.

“I can’t think of a better way to start the New Year.” Justin agrees huskily. “Then with your beautiful dick filling my ass.”

“The start of another fine family tradition.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
